


Day 3: Delirium

by MadhouseVagabond



Series: Whump-tober 2019 [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Brief Fluff, Day 3, Delirium, FAHC, Gen, Hallucinations, Panic Attack, Whump, Whumptober 2019, battle buddies, but nothing is directly stated, implied suicide, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 21:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadhouseVagabond/pseuds/MadhouseVagabond
Summary: What is reality?





	Day 3: Delirium

He'd been awake for days now. Days? Or was it weeks? The time seemed to blend together, the hallucinations and memory loss not a helpful factor. He struggled with simple tasks, tying his shoes, opening doors, standing, often times the others had to help him and they did so without complaint. No one said anything because they wanted to give him space, wanted to respect him but also because they didn't know how to help.

Soon his hallucinations got worse, seeing the others rot and die in front of him every minute of the day, nearly shooting Gavin when he thought the lad was an rival gang member breaking into their home. His mood swings were awful and never consistent; one minute he'd be having a pleasant conversation and the next he'd be shouting angrily for no reason. He'd punched Jeremy in the face the day before, the lad looking at him shocked, but understanding in his eyes as he turned away. He knew that the lad had gone to his room and cried, and he didn't blame the poor kid. They were very close, best friends, and watching him deteriorate like this must've been hard for Jeremy.

Which was why he was here now, locked in his room away from the others with just his demons and his delirium to keep him company. It was safer this way, safer for the crew, safer for him. He didn't want to hurt them and didn't know if he could control himself, couldn't be trusted. So he isolated himself from the others, to keep them safe.

He sat silently in the dark of his room, hands clasped tightly together in front of him in his lap, looking down at the floor but not really focusing on anything in particular, his mind wandering. He twitched every now and then and when a hallucination popped up he closed his eyes tightly and waiting until it was gone, trying to block out all the screaming and voices he'd hear. He was beginning to lose his grasp on reality, the hallucinations taking their toll on his mind. He briefly wished that Geoff was there, the Gent always knew what to do, always knew how to take care of his boys.

There was a knock at his door and a soft voice behind it muffled by the heavy, thick wood. He closed his eyes and shrunk back against the wall where he was huddled, telling himself that it was just another illusion, that his mind was tricking him again. The knock persisted, the noise growing louder and louder in his mind until it felt like someone was beating his skull with a hammer. He pressed his hands over his ears and grit his teeth, shaking his head as his breathing quickened, his heart beating a mile a minute. The sound only got worse, undaunted by his attempts to block it out, and he finally released the scream that had been building up in him, clawing its way up his chest and clambering at his throat for escape.

Suddenly there was a presence near him, a familiar warmth, his hands grabbed and held in firm but gentle ones, soft to the touch. He tried to open his eyes but he couldn't, feeling like if he did the pain would consume him, and he just wanted the noise to stop. He tried to pull away from the hands but was held firm, thumbs gently rubbing over the backs of his, easing some of the tension out of him. A soft, gentle voice penetrated the noise berating his skull, a beacon of light guiding him through the darkness as he slowly began to relax, breathing returning to normal.

"...doing great buddy! Just listen to my voice, come back to me, I'm here for you, I've got you don't worry, it'll be okay."

Slowly he opened his eyes, the tension melting away when he saw a pair of familiar chestnut-brown eyes staring back at him, concern and love swirling in those eyes. Jeremy sat, watching him, holding him until he came down from his panic attack, brought on by his delirious state.

"Hey buddy. I've got you, it's okay. You're doing great just focus on me," the lad spoke gently, holding his hands.

He nodded and took several deep breaths before he felt he was calm enough to speak, though his voice was shaky and cracked from misuse.

"Y-you shouldn't be here. It's n-not safe," he said.

"I don't care, you need me right now," Jeremy shushed him and repositioned himself so he was sitting beside him, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders and drawing him in for a hug.

He leaned into the hug, more desperate for human contact than he'd thought, enjoying the familiar warmth that was his friend. They stayed like that for several minutes, before he slowly sat up and peered around.

"That's weird."

"What?" Jeremy asked.

"I haven't had any hallucinations. Not since you came in here," he said and looked at Jeremy with wide eyes.

"I didn't do anything really, just knew I needed to help you," Jeremy quietly said with a small smile, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Thank you," he breathed and leaned against his friend, feeling for the first time the exhaustion taking over and weighing down his eyelids.

As he fell asleep for the first time in who knows how long, he heard Jeremy beside him whisper into his ear, giving him another gentle squeeze.

"You're welcome Ryan. You sleep now, get better. And when you wake up, I'll be here waiting for you."

Ryan's eyes snapped open and he sat up, startled. He looked around and nearly let out a small whine when he saw he was alone in his dark room. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed quietly, knowing it had all been a bad dream. Slowly he rose to his feet and stumbled to his door, the material feeling cold to the touch. He felt better, rested, but something nagged at the back of his mind, telling him something was wrong. He was too weak from neglecting his health, but he'd be damned if he was going to stand by while his family needed him.

Walking down the hall Ryan grew concerned when he saw all the lights were off, the air cold like the heater hadn't been on in awhile. Stumbling forward he made it to the living room and froze. A terrible smell assaulted his nostrils, causing him to gag. He looked around but couldn't find the source of the smell, slowly taking another step into the room. He took another step and felt his foot collide with something solid. Looking down he saw a large, dark shape on the ground, and with heart rising to his throat he knelt beside it. He fell back screaming when he saw what it was, terror and deep sadness washing over him. Staring blankly back at him through empty, lifeless eyes, was Jack. His neck had been snapped at an unnatural angle and Ryan knew that it had been him, remembering having to fight off one of his hallucinations and kill it in a similar fashion.

Ryan felt sick as he stood and backed away, eyes locked on Jack's corpse, unable to look away. He flicked on the light and sobbed when he saw Gavin and Michael lying on the couch, throats slit and dried blood caked down the front of their bodies and staining the couch. Ryan put his hands in his hair and sobbed, wondering how he could do such a terrible thing. Then a thought came to his mind and he dashed to the kitchen, looking around and seeing it and the dining room empty he heaved a sigh of relief before he glanced at the hall leading to the bedrooms, dread filling him again as he slowly made his way down the hall, a gaping maw swallowing him up. He passed the PlayPals' rooms, Jack's, Geoff's that had been unused and empty for years, his own, and finally paused at Jeremy's door, right next to his. With a shaking hand he grasped the doorknob and slowly turned it, pushing the door in ever so slowly.

Ryan stepped into the room and felt his breath catch. There was Jeremy, on his bed asleep. He heaved a sigh of relief that he hadn't killed the lad, walking closer so he could hear the lad's rhythmic breathing. Silence met his ears as he approached and fear once more took him as he stood over the lad. Jeremy was staring up at the ceiling with lifeless eyes, a look of confusion, hurt and pain on his face, the pillow used to suffocate him lying beside him.

Ryan let out a strangled sob and collapsed beside the bed, looking at Jeremy and wanting desperately to reach out and shake him, to wake him up, hands hovering uselessly over the lad. Tears streamed down his face as he looked at the body of his closest friend, his Battle Buddy. Slowly he reached out and closed Jeremy's eyes, placing a hand on the lad's still chest and lowering his head until it was resting on the mattress. All this was wrong! Jeremy's chest wasn't rising and falling like it should, there was no familiar warmth, no rosy cheeked smiles, no high pitched giggles, no more Jeremy. Ryan sobbed and wept as he grasped Jeremy's hand with his free one and held it like the lad had held him in his dream, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of the lad's soft hand.

"Is this even real? Am I still hallucinating? Is this a nightmare?" he cried. He slapped himself, trying to wake up, but when he opened his eyes Jeremy was still dead.

With tearful eyes, he reached into the bedside table's drawer and felt around until he found the object he somehow knew would be there, eyes never leaving Jeremy. He knew it was a long shot, knew this was a mistake, but if he was right, everything would be back to normal, everything would be fine again. And if not...

It's what he deserved.

Holding Jeremy's hand in his, Ryan lifted the pistol to his head, giving the lad a sad smile and releasing a shaky breath as he flicked the safety off the gun.

"I'm sorry I did this to you. If I could take it back or trade places with you I would gladly do so. You're a much better man than I am Jeremy, you deserve to live. If I'm right about this, I'll see you when I wake up. If I'm wrong...well, I hope in some way this makes up for everything, and that I'll get a chance to apologize to you face to face. I love you, my dearest friend. My Battle Buddy," he cried and closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> That was a rough one, thanks for reading and I apologize for hurting my good sons (but also not sorry).


End file.
